


Safe In His Keeping

by Mews1945



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-26
Updated: 2005-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mews1945/pseuds/Mews1945
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn spends part of a summer afternoon with Frodo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe In His Keeping

The King's garden in Minas Tirith was a marvel, all agreed. It had been created by the skills of the Elf Legolas, and the hobbit Samwise, the two working diligently side by side to bring something perfect to life to honor His Majesty, King Elessar. Many exotic plants had been brought as gifts by delegations who came seeking the King's favor in the aftermath of the war of the Ring. Each plant had found its place in the design created by Elf and hobbit. Chairs, benches and tables had been placed here and there for the comfort of the King and his guests, with trees to shade them and flowers to provide color and perfume for the pleasure of the senses.

Frodo, as the King's honored guest, found the garden a place of peace and beauty that fed the longing in his heart for "home." As soon as he had been released by the healers to do as he wished with his time, he came nearly every day to the garden to find ease and refreshment for his spirit. Often, he brought a book with him, and would sit at a favorite table to read in the cool of the shade cast by a graceful apple tree.

A corner of the garden had been given over to herbs of all kinds that also added their fragrances and colors to the sensory feast, and this herb garden was just outside a door that opened into a corridor that led to one of the kitchens. Should he feel any twinge of hunger or desire for a cool drink, Frodo had only to walk along the stone-paved path to the door and enter the corridor, where an attendant had been posted, and to ask for whatever he desired, and it would be quickly fetched on a tray for him. He seldom availed himself of this luxury, but on a warm late morning when he had arisen with a slight headache, and had not eaten well at breakfast, he found himself hungry and thirsty enough to ask for a small meal and a glass of iced juice to brought to him.

The attendant bowed and promised that he would have his meal in a trice, and Frodo, feeling a bit guilty for asking, returned to his small bower and to the book lying open on the table there. He had become immersed in"The History of Court Customs" and was only vaguely aware that someone had come and placed a tray on the table beside his book.

"Thank you," he said, without looking up. "I am grateful."

"And well you should be, Frodo," said a deep, soft voice. "Since I do not take it upon myself to serve many."

Frodo gasped and pushed himself to his feet, raising a blushing face to the King.

"Elessar King. . .my Lord. . ." he stammered.

"Aragorn will do, since we are here in my garden, and not in the throne room." The King seated himself on one of the chairs, his long legs stretched out before him, and looked as comfortable as though he were still Strider, sitting on the ground before a small fire on the way to Rivendell. He smiled and poured juice of a pale orange color from the silver pitcher into the cup. There were chips of ice floating in the juice, and the cup at once took on a bloom of frost in the warm air.

On a pure white plate, the cook had placed two pieces of brown bread spread with butter and berry jam, thin slices of pink ham, large strawberries dipped in sugar, a cup of mushroom soup, a delicate small meat pie in a flaky golden crust, and tender green lettuce leaves fresh from the vegetable garden.

"Would you care to share my elevenses?" Frodo asked, seating himself again. Aragorn looked over the plate and nodded. "If you are sure there is enough. This hardly seems adequate for a hobbit and a guest."

"Well, if I were Pippin, it wouldn't be," Frodo admitted.

The attendant came trotting toward them, bearing another cup and a second tray, and set it on the table, as Frodo removed the book to make room. The food on the second plate was identical to that on Frodo's, and Aragorn threw back his dark head, laughing a ringing, youthful laugh that made Frodo's heart swell with joy to hear it.

"It would seem," said Aragorn. "That the cook knows more about hobbits than I had realized. Now there is quite enough for both of us."

Frodo laid the book aside on the free chair, and he and Aragorn settled happily down to eat their elevenses together. They talked as they ate, but also paid their food the dedicated attention which it deserved. When they had finished the meal, there was little left on either plate, and Aragorn poured more juice into their cups, and raised his in a toast to Frodo.

"I think," he said. "That I have become very much like a hobbit myself. I shall forever expect to have six meals a day from now on."

Frodo laughed gently. "You will soon be quite round, if you do. Sam will no longer be able to call you Longshanks. He will have to call you something even less flattering."

Aragorn nodded. "I am sure he would think of something. Well, and this is a perfect garden he and Legolas have created. I hope in future I shall have time to enjoy it."

Frodo leaned forward and laid his hand on the King's arm, a liberty he rarely took, but one that Aragorn always welcomed from him.

"Avail yourself of this garden, Aragorn, at least once a day, to refresh your mind and ease your heart. If you do, it will make you a better Man, and a better King. This is something we hobbits have always known. It is why we love our green Shire so very much."

Aragorn put his own hand over Frodo's and smiled at him. "And if I could avail myself of your company each day, I know that it would do the same for me as this garden. I shall miss you more than I can say when you return to the Shire."

"I shall miss you as well, my dear friend. But perhaps someday you will come to the Shire, and I shall be able to show you my own garden there. It will be Sam's garden as well, and will surely rival this one for beauty."

"I do not doubt it," Aragorn said. He leaned back in his chair and looked around him, sighing with pleasure as the sweet summer breeze caressed his face. "I shall remember your advice, Frodo, and keep to it. I wish to be the best King to my people that I can be. And I believe that you have the right of it."

"And I promise you," Frodo said. "That each day I will walk into my own garden, wherever it is, and think of you, here in your garden. I am grateful that I have known you."

Aragorn stood and leaned down to embrace him, and kissed him. "It will bring comfort to my heart to know that," he said. "Do not stay out too long, Frodo. You need to have a rest in the afternoon. You must be careful of your health."

"I shall. I promise."

Frodo watched the King go, walking with his long, powerful strides, and he sighed, saddened because he knew that he would soon be leaving this city and this Man that he had come to love so well. Frodo would go from Minas Tirith, back home to the Shire, but he would always feel a special kind of love and longing for the White City and especially for the Man he had known as Strider, and as Aragorn, and now as King Elessar. But his heart was lifted by the thought that this Man was now the King of this beloved city, and that all of Middle Earth, even the Shire, was safe in his keeping.

 

End


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